“The first time I saw Danny, I was at Court Square helping to feed the homeless, and he walked through. I found out he was a welder, but that he was out of work and had become homeless. He had served time in prison, had nothing to his name, and was covered with tattoos, but there was something about him. I asked him that first day if there was anything he wanted to put in the prayer journal, and at first he said no, but then he wrote his name and beside it: ‘Please just help me.’ That was the beginning of our friendship. He had a great love for people but since he had had such a rough life, he thought he would never amount to anything. We began to read the Bible together, and he started helping with the homeless ministry. Since he knew everybody on the street and they all knew and trusted him, he was a huge help. We worked side-by-side every Sunday beginning in 2007, feeding people, helping them arrange rides, getting furniture for people, distributing sleeping bags, doing whatever we could. I was only able to be there on Sunday afternoons, but Danny fed people in the park every day, even though he was also working at various jobs. “He and I spent a lot of time together serving, and eventually we fell in love. We were married on Main Street in September of 2013, six years after we met. After the wedding, he moved into my apartment near Court Square, so we were both still downtown. Danny was the most wonderful husband. He took care of everything, treated me like a queen, and was so considerate and kind. He was a great cook too, and in the mornings while he made breakfast, he always wanted me to sing I Simply Live for You, a song about loving God. Every Saturday, he brought me breakfast in bed, my Bible, notebook, and pen: everything I needed to spend time with the Lord. He loved that I valued that. “Danny passed away a few months ago, just a few days before our first anniversary. That morning before I left for work, he said (as he had so many times before): ‘I can’t help the way you make me feel.’ I had never asked him what he meant by that, but I did that day, and he said, ‘You make me feel like I’m somebody.’ I said, ‘Danny, you are somebody! Don’t you get it?’ We read the Bible that morning like we did every morning, and he asked me, as always, to sing I Simply Live for You. He cried a little then and said, ‘I can’t wait to get to heaven. It will be so glorious’ and I said, ‘Yes, it will, but I don’t want you to go right now.’ Then I left for work. When I got home later that day, I called out as usual, ‘Danny, I’m home”, but there was no answer. That scared me. I looked, and he was sitting on the couch where he always sat, but he was gone. He had just laid his head down and died. I was like a crazy person, shaking him and screaming. The ambulance came, but there was nothing they could do. I’m still waiting on the autopsy results, but I think it must have been a heart attack. “When the homeless people in the park heard what had happened, they were so upset, crying and saying, ‘He took care of us.’ That next Sunday, even though I almost couldn’t do it, I went to the park, and so many of those homeless guys who had always walked away when we talked about God were there and ready to listen to the message. Their hearts here open in a way they never had been before. “There will never be anyone else like Danny. I still go to Court Square on Sunday afternoons to help the homeless, and I am always hearing stories about him. People will come up to me and say, ‘Let me tell you what he did for me.’ Danny’s life was truly a story of God’s grace.”

Wedding photo of Suanne & Danny taken by Sharon Denise Stone Redding:

After feeding the homeless on her own for years, Suanne founded One Heart Ministries, which brings together a number of churches who minister to those who find themselves in desperate circumstances.